Yours
by eyeslikewildflowers
Summary: Daryl gets jealous and Carol knows it.


Set sometime during season 6 in Alexandria. I don't even know. I'm sorry.

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"Shit," Daryl muttered as his foot caught on a stair and they stumbled into the wall. His hand braced Carol's back to keep her from falling into the railing and she stifled a giggle into his shoulder.

She found his lips again and whispered, "Careful… you'll wake up the whole house," between teasing light kisses over his cheek and jaw.

Daryl caught her bottom lip between his teeth and she whimpered.

"You be careful," he murmured, and reached around her waist to blindly fumble for the bedroom door handle.

Carol's lips curved into a grin as they resumed their easy rhythm. She liked what they had been up to lately. She liked that they were keeping it a secret. She liked that he gained more confidence each time. She liked that he made her feel comfortable and safe; at least as much as she could be in Alexandria. Most of all, she liked that he made her feel _alive_. Human again. Daryl wiggled the door open and they awkwardly stumbled backwards together into her bedroom, their hands roaming through each other's hair and their lips moving fluidly together, until the backs of her knees hit the bed and they fell onto it in a tangled mess.

"Tobin kept asking what my plans were tonight," she said breathlessly as she moved her mouth to suckle gently on his neck. Daryl stifled a groan at both her lips and the mention of Tobin.

"I didn't have the heart to tell him I'd be…" she said, her voice muffled, as she worked her way up to the soft spot just under his ear, "... busy."

Daryl let out a long groan and buried his face in the crook of her neck.

"Fuck sakes, Carol," he muttered, his voice low and shaky as her fingernails mapped the expanse of his back. "Why'd'ya gotta keep stringing him along… An' right in front of me," he finished with a growl.

"What?" she teased, digging her fingernails in a little harder as he fumbled with her belt. "You jealous?"

"Naw," he grumbled defensively, clenching his jaw as he tried to focus on the words he was saying rather than her hips pressing maddeningly into his. He managed to loosen her belt and shifted his attention to working the hem of her sweater up and over the blouse she wore underneath. "Feel sorry for the guy," he said as he pulled the sweater over her head. She complied wordlessly, with nothing but a cheeky grin. "You're always walkin' around in your fancy sweaters… with flowers n' shit… an' those…" he moved one of his hands down to frame the curve of her hip and down the side to cup her ass, "... those fuckin' khaki pants."

He squeezed just hard enough to make Carol inhale sharply through clenched teeth and his trembling hands moved to fumble with the buttons on her blouse.

"I thought I looked ridiculous?" she murmured into his ear with the hint of a grin lacing her voice.

"Ya do," Daryl muttered, getting so frustrated with the buttons that he opted to just rip her blouse right open to reveal the soft, smooth planes of her upper body clad only in a simple white bra. "Ain't never said ya didn't look good, though. 'Specially underneath. But I know ya," he murmured low into her temple as he tugged at the fly on her pants. "An' that ain't you."

"How the hell do you know who I am?" Carol said suddenly with a barely-contained sigh.

" _Stop_ ," he muttered, pausing to study her face. "I know ya better than you wanna admit."

Carol furrowed her brow involuntarily and the defiance in her chest deflated. For better or for worse, she couldn't argue with him. Daryl _did_ know her, whether she liked it or not.

"'Sides," he murmured into her skin as he descended to her collarbone and snaked his hand down between her legs to rub over the soft cotton of her underwear, making her slam her head back into the pillows with a sharp gasp, "I know what ya like, too."

Carol's eyes darkened as she placed her hands on both his cheeks and pulled him in. His hands were magic and she writhed beneath him as he worked her until her wetness soaked right through the cotton.

"Ya ready?" he murmured into her kiss-swollen lips.

Carol's entire body was on fire from core to fingertips. She was ready. She let out a soft little moan and nodded furiously, tangling her hands in his hair and hoping to God he would hurry up. It wasn't about making love - they had plenty of time for that - it was about fulfilling a primal, animalistic _need_ to have him closer, as close as they could possibly be.

"Yes..." she pleaded, reaching clumsily for his belt, "... _Please_."

Daryl sat back on his knees to take it off, and the moment of transition slowed them down just enough for Carol to lightly graze her fingertips over his thigh and meet his eyes with hers. She trusted him with her very soul, more than anyone she had known in her life, and most importantly, he _understood_. He leaned in briefly to lightly brush his lips over hers then rocked backwards until he was standing on the floor so he could push his worn jeans down over his hips. Carol's heart rate quickened though she couldn't do anything but lay there, chest heaving with breathless anticipation. She expected him to slide off his underwear next and crawl on top of her, but Daryl instead leaned forward as if to kiss her again, but surprised her by swiftly gripping her hips and flipping her over.

Carol stifled a gasp into the pillow. This was a first. She instinctively shifted her knees and arched her back as she heard the unmistakable sound of clothing sliding off skin. She tried to twist around but Daryl climbed onto the bed behind her and gently but firmly pressed his palm down onto the small of her back. She could feel the flush in her cheeks and knew she was breathing obnoxiously, but she couldn't help it. She couldn't help the hand that tightened in the pillow when she felt him guide himself up and down her aching slit. She couldn't help the wetness that threatened to drip down her leg as he did. She couldn't help the way she pressed back into him desperately, silently begging him to hurry up and _take her, dammit_.

She certainly couldn't help the sharp gasp that escaped from her throat when he finally lined himself up and pushed in in one smooth, solid stroke. Her eyes rolled back and she buried her face in the pillow as he finally settled their hips together.

"Carol," he gasped in a thick, shaky voice that hardly sounded like him at all.

"Ohhh my God," she heard herself whimper, turning her head to the side on the pillow and pushing her hips backwards into him in encouragement. "Yes, Daryl, please, yes - _ohhh_."

Her words gave way to a strangled, guttural moan as Daryl pulled back halfway before thrusting into her again. She threw one arm up to grip the headboard and braced herself. He repeated the motion, pulling back just enough to make her whimper before shoving back hard enough to see the muscles and veins of her forearm tense.

The bed squeaked and the headboard shook against the wall at a quick pace, but neither of them could be bothered to care. It was all Carol could do to stifle her cries as best as she could into the fabric she clenched firmly between her teeth. Nothing, not even fear of being caught existed in that moment except for _him_ and the maddening sensation of him pulling away just to bring them right back together, only more and more desperately each time. She begged him to go harder, faster, in words she barely even recognized as her own. Daryl re-adjusted his grasp on her hips, then took a deep, shaky breath before thrusting into her abruptly with a ferocity that surprised them both. She was on fire, the intoxicating sensation of him burying himself within her burning her up from the inside out. She lost all sense of time, place, and self-awareness as she let him carry her away.

Daryl, meanwhile, was doing all he possibly could to hold himself together. Carol had to be the tightest, the warmest, certainly the _best_ he had ever had. He liked the quiet nights when he would be on top of her taking it slow while she whispered loving encouragement into his ear, but there was something so visceral and so _raw_ about seeing her bent over in front of him, her shoulders quaking and a desperate sound coming from her mouth that he almost came undone whenever he looked down. He instead closed his eyes and blindly felt out the curve of her ass with one hand while he kept a firm grip on her hip with his other.

Carol was starting to lose whatever control she had over her desperate little sounds. Daryl heard footsteps downstairs and worried someone might come looking for the noise, so he took the opportunity to slow down a little. Carol whimpered, but was grateful for the chance to take a few deep breaths, and Daryl let himself open his eyes only to catch a glimpse of her reflected in the glass on a painting facing the bed. Even in the dim light he could make out the tantalizing picture of a thin sheen of sweat covering her brow as well as the swells of her breasts swaying in time with his slow, deliberate rhythm.

Goosebumps exploded all over Carol's skin as Daryl scooped an arm down around her waist and gently pulled her up until her back rested flush with his torso. She couldn't stifle her long, shuddering moan at the sudden change of angle - slower, but even deeper than before. He buried his face in the back of her neck and planted sloppy kisses all over her shoulders and back as they rocked together in a steady rhythm that had him hitting her in exactly the right places. She melted backwards into him and Daryl kept a firm hand on the soft, flat skin above her navel and just below her ribcage while his other hand explored down the length of her abdomen until he found what he was looking for.

Carol's eyes flew open and she inhaled sharply when she felt Daryl's fingers part her folds and start circling her sensitive little nub.

"Daryl!" she squeaked, before clapping a hand over her mouth.

He smiled into her skin as she began to tremble. He remembered what she had shown him, and he maintained his slow, steady thrusts as his fingers found the rhythm she liked. Her chest heaved as she wound her hand up around the back of his neck with one hand and dug her nails into his forearm with her other. He was bringing her closer and closer to the edge, and by the way his body shook with every thrust he wasn't far off himself.

She moaned his name again and again and he whispered, "Let go, Carol... I got you," in between nipping at her neck and shoulders. "I got you."

His fingers were working incredible magic on her and his low, gravelly voice whispering reassurance in her ear was all it took for her to break. Her whole body tensed and trembled in a spastic rhythm, and had it not been for his arms holding her firmly upright she would have collapsed onto the bed. She didn't even know she was gripping his arm hard enough to make him gasp and it wasn't until she had come back down that she realized she was panting into a hand that wasn't hers.

"Fuck, Carol," he gasped into the back of her neck, trailing his hand down from her mouth to cup her breast. She had almost brought him over that edge with her, and he had done his best to hold off as long as he could so she could finish first but he could feel himself fast approaching the point of no return.

Carol could sense his desperation and she arched, pushing her backside harder against him, relishing in his steady strokes as she ran her hands lightly over the fingernail marks she had left on him.

"Yes, Daryl," she murmured in a thick, shaky voice. "Come for me..."

It was all the encouragement he needed. Daryl's vision went white and he pitched forward as he finally let himself go, pinning them both to the bed as he muffled his groans of release into the soft crook of her neck. He lay still for a long moment as little aftershocks coursed through him, hardly able to comprehend what had just happened until a muffled voice brought him back to reality.

"Daryl," Carol choked out, her face half-buried in the pillow. "Can't… breathe…"

Daryl smiled weakly and murmured an apology before rolling off of her onto his back. He was spent. He could barely find the strength to place his hands under the back of his head as he let his eyes drift closed. Carol put her hands behind her head too and they both lay side by side, chests still heaving, skin still slicked with sweat, as they replayed what had just happened in their minds.

"So," she whispered after they had both had a chance to catch their breath. Daryl turned his head to her and hummed. "Should I tell Tobin I'm busy tomorrow, too?" she asked.

Daryl snorted and smacked her shoulder playfully. The sweat was cooling on her skin and she started to feel a chill, so she giggled and turned towards him as she snuggled into his side.

"Or..." she said with a cheeky grin, "I might keep letting you get jealous, if it makes you… do _that_."

Daryl shook his head and sighed contentedly, drawing her close and burying his face in her mess of curls.

"Tell him whatever ya want," he murmured, "As long as I'm the one ya end up with at night."

Carol smiled into his skin and pulled the blanket up around them.

"Even though I snore?" she asked, and shivered as he brushed his fingertips lightly over her goosebumped arms.

"Even though ya snore," he said, planting a soft kiss to her forehead.

Carol smiled and sighed happily. No matter how hard things got, she knew she could survive it all if she had him to look forward to at the end of each day. She tightened her grip on his waist, and was fast asleep before he had even turned out the light.

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Thanks for reading! I'd love it if you could let me know what you think :)


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